Quoted By:
>[SOMEWHERE ELSE]
You are Madrigal Fitzpatrick. After feeding a roomful of horrible flesh tendrils and falling down a drainhole, you have allied yourself with horrible failed clone/flesh abomination Lester One in hopes of collectively escaping the dream-mansion-prison you're both stuck in. And <span class="mu-i">that's</span> one sentence you'd never thought you'd ever think of, much less live through—
—but you've got to work with what you've got, don't you? There's no such thing as "picky" when you're kidnapped, and particularly not when your kidnapper is 1) awake and 2) aware you're not where you're supposed to be. There's an extremely real chance you're on a tight time limit—
—which you're not sure Lester One understands. After you sealed your questionable partnership with a handshake, you prompted it to tell you what it knew— all quick-like, or so you intended. Instead, it's been rambling at you without interruption for the last several minutes. You should've fucking expected this, since this happens <span class="mu-i">every</span> single time you try and be polite or make small-talk or whatever else. Your clients don't have basic social skills, see, so when you ask how their day went they fucking tell you. And then they tell you their stupid fucking grievances or decade-old grudges or rattle off their kill list and it takes twenty useless minutes before they just hand you the chit and leave— but not before telling you what a good listener you are. Your exes were exactly the same. Have you just got one of those faces? It can't be your charming and approachable demeanor, surely, so it's got to be that or the tits. God dammit. This is why you like Branwen; she knows when to shut up.
At least it's not all bad: Lester One doesn't seem to care if you respond to it, so you've been passively absorbing the rambling while you work out how to escape this room. The door is thick and metal and locked from the outside, and you see no obvious grates or hatches. Why would you see obvious grates or hatches? When is life fucking easy for you? Blah blah sweetheart blah, says Lester One, from its gross central fishtank. Blah darling blah blah are you listening blah blah— "Sure am," you say, after a beat. "You need me to repeat it back to you, or something?"
Then, without waiting for a response, you rattle back a broad summary of what it told you. Alright, a really broad summary. But you hit everything important, as far as you're concerned:
-> It talks a big game, but it doesn't know a hell of a lot. The flesh lump part of it has been stuck in the tank since Pat put it here, only able to escape via its... various tendrils. However, it's been able to maintain some kind of link with the other Lesters, so it knows what they know too...
(1/3)
